Chapter 49: The Sage's Guidance
Hive Basement
Sean had already finished three cans of beer while sitting alone on a park bench.
As he opened the fourth can, someone quietly sat down beside him.
"Mind if I sit here?"
Sean turned his head and saw a wrinkled old face.
It was Dale—the old man who had arrived at the base in an RV.
Sean felt like he had seen him around several times before, yet somehow never truly noticed him.
Dale was like air—always present, but rarely acknowledged.
"Suit yourself," Sean muttered before taking another swig of beer.
Dale said nothing further.
He simply sat there quietly, staring up at the artificial sky overhead.
After a long silence, he finally spoke.
"This sky looks pretty real, doesn't it?"
Sean ignored him.
Dale didn't seem bothered and continued calmly.
"When I was younger, I loved camping. I'd lie on the grass at night and stare at the stars. Back then, there were so many stars I couldn't count them all. But as I got older, my eyesight worsened… and somehow the stars seemed fewer too."
He pulled a pack of hand-rolled cigarettes from his pocket. The smell of cheap tobacco drifted into the air.
"You know, I used to have a daughter. She left home to make her own way in the world when she was very young. I never saw her again."
He took a slow drag before exhaling softly.
"I think about her sometimes. I wonder if she got married, whether she has children now… but what's the point? She doesn't want to see me, and I can't find her. That's all there is to it."
Sean paused slightly.
Dale continued.
"In life, things don't always go the way you want them to. You may think you're right, but other people might not see it that way. You may believe things should happen one way, but reality chooses another path."
He shook his head slowly.
"So what can you do? Cry? Yell? Fight?"
"It won't change anything."
Sean's voice became slightly hoarse.
"What exactly are you trying to say?"
"Nothing."
Dale stood up and dusted off his pants.
"I just think drinking alone is boring. At least when you drink with someone, there's somebody to talk to."
He glanced at Sean.
There was no pity in his eyes, no preaching—only the calmness that often came with age.
"If you ever want someone to drink with, I'm usually free. Old men tend to have plenty of spare time."
Then he quietly left.
No lectures.
No advice.
No dramatic conclusions.
He had arrived quietly, and he departed just as quietly.
Sean watched his retreating figure before crushing the empty beer can in his hand.
Tilting his head back, he drained the rest of the beer in one gulp and tossed the can neatly into a nearby trash bin.
Then he stood up, dusted off his pants, and walked back toward the dormitory.
Third Floor Office
Wu Fan watched Sean's departing figure through the surveillance monitor before switching off the television.
That old man Dale truly hadn't disappointed him.
Not everyone needed grand speeches.
Some people simply needed someone who wouldn't judge them, interrogate them, or pressure them—someone willing to sit quietly beside them and let them know they weren't alone.
Sometimes, that alone was enough.
Wu Fan picked up the office phone and dialed an internal number.
"Amy, starting tomorrow, have Dale take charge of mental health support in the community. Give him an office too."
"Huh?" Amy sounded confused. "Mental health support?"
"It's basically just talking to people," Wu Fan replied.
"He's good at it."
After all, if Dale was going to stay under his protection for free, Wu Fan might as well squeeze every bit of value out of him.
In the end, Dale still couldn't escape being recruited by Wu Fan.
Of course, after moving into the Hive basement, Dale had genuinely fallen in love with the environment there. When Amy later arranged his work assignment, he willingly accepted a position in the counseling office of the community hospital.
He and Gail also moved into a small villa with a yard in the Hive residential district, where they spent their free time growing vegetables together.
A Few Days Later
Dale met with Sean again.
Still carrying some irritation in his heart, Sean followed Dale into a small grove near the camp while the two chatted casually.
"Sean," Dale suddenly asked, "are you worried about Lori?"
Sean's pupils instantly contracted, and his hand tightened around his belt.
Over the past few days, Dale had gradually learned the reason behind Sean's frustration.
Lori's pregnancy was no secret anymore. Before long, everyone in the camp would know about it.
Dale had even spoken with Gail at the community hospital.
Lori truly didn't want the child.
And Dale probably understood why.
"I know," Dale said calmly.
"When Rick was gone, you were the one carrying the burden. Lori depended on you, and Carl looked at you almost like a father. Anyone in your position would've treated them like family."
Sean froze briefly.
No one had ever acknowledged his efforts so openly before.
Most people simply accused him of overstepping his boundaries.
"I didn't do anything wrong," Sean defended himself quietly.
"You didn't."
Dale's answer came without hesitation.
"The problem is this world. It makes people believe that if they want to keep those they care about, they need to hold on tighter and tighter."
The old man paused before softening his tone.
"Sean, you cared for Lori not because you wanted to steal another man's wife. You did it because you're kindhearted, loyal, and couldn't bear to watch a helpless woman and child struggle through the apocalypse alone."
He continued gently.
"But have you ever considered that Lori was still waiting for Rick in her heart? She leaned on you because she was afraid and helpless—not because she truly wanted to forget Rick completely."
"Now Rick has returned. Her husband is alive. She is no longer alone."
"The tighter you cling now, the more pain you'll cause her… and yourself."
Sean swallowed hard but didn't argue.
Dale continued softly,
"You protected them when they needed protection. But if that protection turns into possession, then you're no longer helping them—you're trapping all of you in misery."
He stopped walking and looked directly at Sean.
"Lori will feel guilty. Carl will become confused. And you'll suffocate under your own jealousy."
"You're a good man, Sean. You shouldn't imprison yourself inside a hopeless obsession."
Sean turned his face away, his voice rough and strained.
"Then what am I supposed to do? Just… walk away?"
"It's not about walking away," Dale replied.
"It's about finding your proper place."
His eyes were calm and sincere.
"You can still protect them. You can still be Carl's uncle and one of the strongest fighters in the group."
"You don't need to become Lori's man in order to care about them."
"What you need to let go of isn't responsibility—it's jealousy and possessiveness."
"Rick isn't someone like Ed, that abusive bastard who hurt Carol. Rick is a good husband and a good father."
"You and Rick are brothers. Comrades."
"You should be protecting this family together."
Sean's resistance slowly began to crumble.
Dale continued,
"This is who you're supposed to be: upright, honest, and free from the chains of your own resentment."
Sean stood there silently for a long time, staring toward the distant woods beyond the camp.
As the wind passed through the trees, the tension in his shoulders gradually loosened.
"I'm just… afraid they'll get hurt."
"I know."
Dale gently patted his arm.
"But true strength isn't about keeping people beside you."
"It's about making them feel safe… while also giving yourself peace."
"Letting Lori go isn't about fulfilling someone else's wishes."
"It's about freeing yourself."
Sean slowly let out a long breath, as though releasing everything that had been trapped inside his heart for far too long.
He said nothing more.
He simply nodded quietly.
For the first time, the burning possessiveness inside him was soothed by kindness instead of conflict.
He would still protect Lori and Carl.
But from now on, he would no longer be a man trying to possess them.
He would become a guardian who stood beside them openly, honestly, and without regret.